


the more loving one

by theseourbodies



Series: they stumble that run fast [3]
Category: due South
Genre: Gen, M/M, POV Third Person Limited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-26
Packaged: 2018-09-12 08:23:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9064027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theseourbodies/pseuds/theseourbodies
Summary: a conversation. 

  Of course, the universe is always just waiting for a chance to make Ray Kowalski look like an ass, so he should have maybe expected it when Fraser, seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of a pretty important conversation, says, "Ray, Ray Vecchio was devout."





	

When you sign up, one of the thousands of questions the form asks is whether you got a particular way you wanna be buried if you die in the line of duty. It doesn't say that exactly, of course, but why the hell else would the CPD give a fuck about what church you pray in, if you do that kind of thing at all. Ray had been pissy enough when he sat down with the forms that he hadn't even hesitated over the _Catholic_ box before checking _Nondenominational- Christian._ The name at the top of the  form read _S. Raymond Kowalski_ already; what was one more 'screw you' to dear old dad. 

Everything he knows about Vecchio-- which turns out to be quite a bit between the file, the family, and Fraser-- convinces him that Vecchio was just a little less strong willed about the decision during the paper work phase. His paperwork reads _Catholic,_ but Ray figures that's mostly family pressure and expectation, that Vecchio's no more religious than Ray is. The cross is a nice touch, but try finding a guy calls himself Italian in Chicago without one of those around his neck, Ray would pay good money to see it. 

Ray just...you know, assumes. 

Of course, the universe is always just waiting for a chance to make Ray Kowalski look like an ass, so he should have maybe expected it when Fraser, seemingly out of nowhere in the middle of a _pretty important_ conversation, says, "Ray, Ray Vecchio was devout." Fraser is giving him that faintly confused, pinchy-eyebrow look that means he expected Ray to know this already; by day two of working together, it was Ray's least favorite of Fraser's faces, and he's as pissed to see it now as that first time. 

"Ok." Not what he had expected to hear, but fine, Ray's frankly just happy to be wrong about something that isn't, you know, earth-shattering. "And that matters why?"

Oops, wrong question. Possibly one wrong question in a series of wrong questions-- Ray can't remember noticing Fraser going tense as they talked, but he can see the tension in Fraser's jaw now, the unnatural stillness of his posture, and it didn't just happen all of a sudden. Ray can feel his fists curl up, feel his weight shift to the balls of his feet; used to be, only Stella could do this to Ray, put his back up like the stray dog Stella's daddy had always all but compared him to. He wasn't too jazzed to find that Fraser, with his hidden triggers like conversational landmines and all his _looks_ , was just as adept at making Ray feel like _fighting something._  Ray really doesn't want to think about what, exactly, that means, so he makes his fists relax and starts talking. 

"What, ok, what, I can see I've stuck my foot in it, I can see that, but we were having a, a, you know. An important talk, I thought, and then you come at me with this nonse--nonsecu-- _random fun fact_ about your buddy Vecchio when alls I wanted to know was--" Ray trips over his own sentence because he's known Fraser for going on a year now, and it's quite possible that Ray's never seen him look quite like this-- stiff with something that Ray recognizes as maybe misery, certainly something heart-sick. Quick as anything his brain rabbits back through what he said, and what had he been asking Fraser anyway? They'd been talking soft like they did sometimes after a hard case, about mostly-nothing things that still always seemed to matter. They'd been talking about Fraser and Vecchio, talking about-- Oh, hell. 

Now Ray really wants to hit something, and that something is mainly Vecchio's big nose. He doesn't remember what he had been saying, been joking about, because that's not the point of this. When they're here, Fraser perched on Ray's ratty ass sofa and Ray spending a little time sitting on all available sitting-surfaces, they-- well, Ray always has an end goal, something he wants to learn about Vecchio's batshit Mountie. It's the soft-shock interrogation style that Ray's not as good at as he should be-- he's no good at being good cop. But with Fraser he wants to be good at it, better at it; he's gotten pretty sick of accidentally tripping over the hidden things Fraser doesn't want to or can't talk about. Ray needs to know where they are so he can avoid them preamp--primptive-- before-hand. 

So Ray can't remember what he'd been saying, but he sure knows what he wanted to know-- he had wanted to know if Vecchio'd ever caved like Ray kind of sort of wanted to cave sometimes when Fraser did something really good or great or awesome. If Vecchio'd ever done the flirt-thing with Fraser. Except, as sometimes happened, he and Fraser had been having two separate conversations; Ray had wanted to know if Vecchio'd ever gotten a little soft on Fraser, and Fraser apparently had just maybe come right out and admitted that he'd certainly wanted Vecchio to do just that. But, "Ray Vecchio is devout," in _that_ context actually means a hell of a lot, and Ray realizes that that tight, miserable expression on Fraser's mug is maybe because he realized they were having two different conversations, too. Maybe Fraser was realizing that he'd given away more than he'd meant to. 

Fraser's mouth was doing that upsetting thin-lipped thing. "I only meant," he starts, fiddling with the flat brim of his hat, "I only meant that Ray Vecchio was a devout Catholic and my closest friend. I would not have--I didn't want to ask him to-- I could never be entirely honest with him. I couldn't ask."

Jeezus, Ray's chest was aching. He had wanted to know everything there was to know about Fraser, wanted to sink his questions deep and get to the answers of the odd man in the red suit. And here was something not even Vecchio had known, something Fraser had possibly only shared with the wolf. Funny how that victory rang hollow, now. 

"Yeah, Fraser." Ray says slowly, not gentle but as neutral as he can make himself sound. "Ok, buddy, I got ya. I got it."

**Author's Note:**

> Quick and unedited fic that was supposed to be about Ray V and a rosary, and is obviously not that, now. 
> 
> Title taken from W.H. Auden's _The More Loving One_ :
> 
> How should we like it were stars to burn  
> With a passion for us we could not return?  
> If equal affection cannot be,  
> Let the more loving one be me.


End file.
